Graduation day for Almodovar

Pedro Almodovar stood in front of hundreds of guests inside Palais du Cinema this week at the premiere of his latest film, “Bad Education,” and declared: “We’re having a party later on. I hope you can all come.” It was a night to celebrate.

The film’s original March premiere in its native Spain was derailed as terrorist bombings in Madrid left 202 people dead and the country in shock. In the following weeks, Almodovar got a taste of hardball politics when he made public declarations against the conservative out-going party of Jose Maria Aznar. He says he became the bete noir of the right wing and received death threats.

“It was a terrible time,” he said. So here in the Cote d’Azur, the robust, graying director was determined to put all that ugliness behind him.

But even in Cannes, reality often bumped uncomfortably into the fantastical world of Almodovar’s film; “Bad Education,” after all, is about a young man who is molested as a child by a priest and who goes on to become a drug-addicted transsexual.

It is a film that Almodovar admits takes a long time to digest.

He went to great pains to keep his movie from being called anti-clerical, saying pedophilia is a crime so heinous and self-evident there is no need to make a statement against it in his film.

“The church degrades itself each time they make statements in the press,” he told a crowd of journalists at an afternoon news conference. “At least in Spain, the church is its own worst enemy.”

Almodovar could not escape the politics of his homeland: “Is it true you are going to remake ‘What Have I Done to Deserve This,’ starring Jose Maria Aznar?” a Chilean reporter jokingly asked.

“No, I think that film needs to be from a Chilean point of view, because you also know about terrible things,” the director fired back.

His movie is not a political film, he insists. It’s film noir, Almodovar style.

The central character is modeled on any of the classic temptresses -- Barbara Stanwyck, Jean Simmons or Veronica Lake. Except in this case the femme fatale is Gael Garcia Bernal in drag.

And so, the film premiere and party also played out Almodovar style.

After the gala screening, guests were handed mini bottles of Vueve Cliquot champagne from silver trays held by an army of waiters. The crowds were shipped across the bay by boat to a jetty where the bright lights beckoned. Red canvas cloth surrounded the entry to the party tent, with the film’s name in bold black letters above the entry. Along the red carpet, the requisite paparazzi stood in wait for Garcia Bernal, who dressed in casual black jeans and black shirt.

Garcia Bernal was accompanied by his mother, Patricia Bernal, a beautiful Mexican actress whose luminous tan skin is offset by pale green eyes. Mother and son are seemingly identical, so it becomes obvious that Garcia Bernal was selected by Almodovar in part because he looked so good in a wig and makeup.

Inside the tent, giant posters of crucifixes, drawings of Garcia Bernal’s image, roses with deadly thorns, candles, hearts wrapped in barbed wire -- all the idolatrous images of the Catholic Church that Almodovar reveres -- hung along the walls.

(At the news conference earlier, he declared: “I don’t believe in God, but I do believe in the ritual ceremonies” of the church).

The film resonated with some guests at the party: “It was terrific,” said British entertainment attorney Leo Haidar. “It speaks to me because I was abused by a priest and my brother is a transsexual, you know.”

After a smirk and a pause, he continued, “Pedro’s world is very colorful.” New Line Cinema founder Bob Shaye wandered about, wearing thick black sunglasses in the heavy, smoke-filled darkened tent, saying “far out” to all who introduced themselves to him.

After a long explosion of fireworks set to the film’s music, the guests were asked inside the tent to watch a special show: “Live From Cannes ... Las Diabeticas Aceleradas (The Accelerated Diabetics)!” a troupe of cross-dressers -- the best in Spain, according to those who would know -- burst on the stage.

The “girls” had been scheduled to perform at the film’s Madrid premiere, so this became their world premiere. (Imagine, one guest noted, the “girls” rehearsed yesterday wearing three-day beards.)

They danced in magenta silk mini-dresses with feathered sleeves, platinum-blond wigs and hot pink lipstick to “Un Ano de Amor” (A Year of Love).

You will remember, those happy days,

You will remember, the feel of my lips,

And you will understand, in one single moment,

What that year of love really meant....

But then came the grand diva: La Terremoto (the Earthquake) -- the troupe’s only born female, who belted out tragic love songs in English, French and Spanish as her cross-dressing companions danced in matching sequined silver mini-dresses. Winding down, she pleaded with the audience to follow her lead.

“We need people’s cooperation,” she yelled out to the crowd. “Wave your hand across your heart and in the air when I say, ‘Love is in the air.’ ” The crowd did as she asked, stomping and whistling when the show ended with Wayne Newton’s “Danke Schoen.”

Asking for an encore, Almodovar got up on stage to sing with the troupe.

It was a night, he felt, well worth waiting for.